


Ten Percent

by Yourwritersblock



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Andrew is struggling to cope, Emotional Support, Established Relationship, M/M, Neil has cancer, terminal illness
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-24
Updated: 2018-10-24
Packaged: 2019-08-06 22:44:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16396511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yourwritersblock/pseuds/Yourwritersblock
Summary: Andrew dropped his duffel bag by the door as soon as he stepped through and Neil had to reign in an eyeroll. Andrew’s complete disregard for Neil’s space was both hilarious and antagonising.The past two days had passed slowly. Neil had run himself ragged, but he was still benched over his ‘stomach bug’, and at times it had felt like Friday night would never arrive.“Why are you still up?” Andrew asked as he took Neil’s cup of tea out of his hand and contemplated it with disgust before taking a sip.Neil had planned to tell Andrew as soon as he got home, but looking at Andrew with his tired eyes and stiff posture made Neil’s tongue stick to the roof of his mouth.“Just waiting for you,” he said at length, “Let’s get to bed before we both pass out in my entrance way.”





	Ten Percent

**Author's Note:**

> Come send me prompts at yourwritersblock on Tumblr :D comments and kudos are always appreciated~

“There’s a ten percent chance you’ll last till the end of the year,” Aaron said, scrubbing his face with his hand. “Probably less if I’m being honest, this is a pretty advanced case.” **  
**

Neil pressed a hand to his abdomen. Neil’s symptoms had been crippling, but he had expected some kind of stomach bug. Not Aaron telling him he had tested positive to pancreatic cancer. Andrew had all but forced him to Aaron, ignoring Neil’s complaints that his body would sort itself out, and now Neil was discovering that he couldn’t have been more wrong. Distant static rang in his ears as Aaron flipped through his chart for the fifth time.

“Look, I know you come to me because of all your weird trust issues with doctors, but this really isn’t my area of speciality,” Aaron mumbled, snapping the file closed. “I’m going to recommend you to a specialist. From there you’ll probably get put onto a round of adjuvant therapy.”

The static stilled to an eerie buzz. Neil sucked in a breath and felt the iron trap of his ribs press against his lungs. “Will that actually help?”

Aaron flipped Neil’s chart open again. Neil wondered if it was a nervous habit that Aaron displayed with all his patients, or if his fidgeting was because it was Neil he was diagnosing. The two had become far less antagonistic over the years, but their relationship could hardly be described as friendly.

“It’s-” Aaron sighed, “It’s debatable.”

Neil pushed himself off of the examination bed and landed on his feet. “Don’t tell Andrew about this.”

Aaron lifted his hands in mock surrender, and Neil fisted his hand in his shirt over his stomach before leaving.

The outside of the hospital was stark white and the wind unpleasantly warm. Neil leaned against a wall and pulled his phone out. The cool numbness in his chest flared to ice as he hit his speed dial.

“And?” Andrew asked in lieu of a hello.

The ice broke into shards and sent blood rushing into his lungs. Neil was drowning. “I was right,” he said, ignoring the panic snarling under his skin, “It was just a stomach bug.”

“Better safe than sorry,” Andrew replied.

Neil dug his teeth into his cheek. “I figured I might as well go shopping for when you come over this weekend. Anything you feel like in particular?”

“I might be a bit late on Friday night,” Andrew said, voice cracking due to bad signal. “Johnson wants to run over some drills. This wouldn’t be a problem if he would just agree to sign you.”

“I’m too expensive, remember?” Neil said as he stepped away from the wall and dug his car keys from his pocket. “It’s fine, I’ll make something for you anyway and leave it in the microwave.”

Neil slid into the car and dropped his forehead to the steering wheel. “I’ll be sure to stock up on that new chocolate brand you’re obsessed with as well.”

The call came to an end shortly after that. Neil spend a moment more with his face pressed against the wheel, picking apart the complex tangle of emotion unraveling in his gut. Anger and sadness stumbled over each other. Fury at the fact that he had survived so much only to be taken out by his own body, sorrow at the fact that he had had so little time with Andrew. Six measly years wasn’t nearly enough. With any of the foxes. He would have to tell them eventually, but it wasn’t exactly a conversation he could have over the phone and getting them all together would be difficult with their schedules. Telling them individually would probably end in disaster because the news would inevitably spread before he got through all of them. At any rate he would tell Andrew first. And Andrew would be spending the weekend at Neil’s apartment, so they had a whole two days to work through it. Neil took another shuddering breath and shifted the car into first.

—–

Andrew dropped his duffel bag by the door as soon as he stepped through and Neil had to reign in an eyeroll. Andrew’s complete disregard for Neil’s space was both hilarious and antagonising.

The past two days had passed slowly. Neil had run himself ragged, but he was still benched over his ‘stomach bug’, and at times it had felt like Friday night would never arrive.

“Why are you still up?” Andrew asked as he took Neil’s cup of tea out of his hand and contemplated it with disgust before taking a sip.

Neil had planned to tell Andrew as soon as he got home, but looking at Andrew with his tired eyes and stiff posture made Neil’s tongue stick to the roof of his mouth.

“Just waiting for you,” he said at length, “Let’s get to bed before we both pass out in my entrance way.”

Andrew grunted in confirmation and kicked his shoes off before following Neil further into the apartment. He dug some sleeping clothes out of Neil’s drawer, completely ignoring the ones he had brought with him. The pants were too long, drowning his feet so that only his toes poked out. Neil felt his lips pull up into a smile despite the acidic burn in his abdomen. He thought of a time when he had been ready to rip down a photograph as he stared death in the face. Back then he’d been looking at Andrew as he accepted that his life would end sooner rather than later, and he was doing the same thing now. The bitter, unwanted nostalgia had his hands shaking.

The sound of Andrew pushing the blankets around dragged Neil back into the present. “Neil, come here.”

Neil curled his hand over his stomach and immediately dropped it. He refused to develop a habitual tell within hours of his diagnosis, but Andrew didn’t miss the aborted motion. “Are you still feeling sick? Do I need to grab a bucket in case you need to puke during the night?”

“I’m fine,” Neil said, wincing slightly at the lie he hadn’t used in years. “I’m just tired, didn’t eat much today.”

“Get over here,” Andrew repeated, “I’m cold and tired.”

Neil flicked the lights off and collapsed next to Andrew. Andrew pressed his feet against Neil’s calves as he slipped under the covers. “What the fuck, Andrew,” Neil said, “It’s the middle of summer. How are your feet this cold?”

“I warned you,” Andrew muttered as he turned his cheek into the pillow. He pulled Neil against his chest as soon as Neil had settled.

His breathing evened out after a few minutes and Neil wove his fingers between Andrew’s where they rested on his stomach. Andrew’s warmth and breath fanning over the back of his neck had adoration blooming in Neil’s blood stream. He wished he could bottle this moment and live in it forever. Now that he knew he had cancer he could almost feel it eating away at his insides like the caustic words he had grown up on.

“Andrew,” he whispered into the darkness, “I’m sorry.” He fell asleep with the heat of Andrew wrapped around him.

—–

Morning came far too quickly and Neil’s eyes fluttered open to the sound of the percolator gurgling in the kitchen. A pan clattered against the stove and Neil dragged himself out of the queen bed to go poke at the pancakes that Andrew was inevitably making.

He walked into the kitchen as Andrew was divvying the offending pancakes onto two plates. “You missed your run this morning,” he commented as he slid Neil’s plate across the table.

Neil hummed non committedly and dropped into the kitchen stool. “Andrew,” he said before pausing. He had no idea how he was supposed to phrase this confession. Aaron had been cold and clinical as he delivered the news, but this was Neil’s life, and he couldn’t repeat it with the same detachment. He must have been quiet for too long because Andrew kicked his foot from under the table.

“I was thinking we should get a place together,” Neil went with instead, latching onto an idea he had formed months ago, “We’re not on the same team, but maybe we could get a third place that we could meet up on the weekends. If it’s between our two teams we can see each other more often.”

Andrew bumped Neil’s foot again. “That won’t be necessary when I get Johnson to sign you.”

Neil rolled his eyes, but Andrew was like a bulldog holding onto a bone, and Neil didn’t miss the implication that Andrew was pushing for them to be on the same team so they could live together permanently. White panic bubbled up in his throat at the thought of Andrew being left alone, but he swallowed it down with practised ease.

“I need to go out for a bit today,” Neil said.

Andrew had finished his breakfast and was reaching for Neil’s plate. Neil pushed it over obediently. His appetite had all but died in the past few weeks anyway.

“Pick up some Italian for lunch on your way back,” Andrew said and Neil felt relieved that Andrew seemed disinterested in where he was going.

Neil drove to a nearby coffee shop and pulled his phone from his pocket. He scrolled through his contacts until he found Aaron’s number and hit the dial button.

“Josten, why are you calling me on my one day off?”

“The treatment you mentioned, can you explain how it works?”

Aaron huffed over the line and Neil heard him calling to Kaitlyn that he would be in his office. After another moment he said, “Aren’t you with Andrew?”

Neil scoffed. “I’m slightly more intelligent than you give me credit for. I left the apartment for a bit. Anyway, the a-something therapy. How does it work?”

“Adjuvant therapy? You would have to take drugs called cytotoxics that kill the cancer cells. Although in your case they would most likely only slow the growth of the tumour. You’d lose all your hair though” Aaron hummed in contemplation and Neil could hear him shuffling papers around in the background. “If that doesn’t work they might try radiology. But with that also comes hair loss and weakness. I’m not trying to discourage you, but I have to be honest and say that it’s unlikely to make a difference.”

A waitress made her way over to Neil, and flicked him an irritated glare when Neil waved her away. “I’ll discuss it with Andrew when I tell him about this,” Neil said as he felt his composure crack.

“I can’t believe you haven’t told Andrew yet.”

“I don’t know how to,” Neil snarled. This was the closest Neil and Aaron had ever come to talking about feelings and Neil’s familiar coping mechanisms were snapping at his heels.

“I wouldn’t know how to tell Kaitlyn either,” Aaron said in a rare display of empathy.

Neil snapped the phone shut without a goodbye and started jogging back towards Andrew’s favourite Italian place.

When he walked through the front door of his apartment the TV was on low volume, and Neil vaguely recognised the movie Andrew had on. Andrew himself was sprawled across the couch, back pressing up against the armrest.

“I got your favourite,” Neil said as he dropped down beside his partner. Andrew grunted a response and dug his toes under Neil’s thigh. He hadn’t changed out of Neil’s sleepwear, and his hair was still puffed up from being pressed against a pillow the whole night. The light streaming through the window turned his hair into honey and his eyes into amber and for a moment Neil could do nothing but stare at him.

“Andrew,” he said, pain clenching around his heart, “what would you do if I ever died?”

Andrew turned his face away from the TV to look at Neil. “You’re not dying.”

Neil drove his teeth into his cheek. “Everybody dies. Would you be able to move on? To find someone else?” Neil felt a stab of jealousy at the thought of Andrew doing this with someone else, but the idea of Andrew being alone for the next forty something years had venom filling Neil’s mouth.

Andrews eyes darkened as he regarded Neil. “No, I wouldn’t.”

The blunt honesty sent Neil reeling and he dropped a hand on Andrew’s calf to ground himself. Nausea sat like turbulence in his stomach.

“Would you?”

“I could never move on from you.”

Andrew accepted Neil’s admission with a nod and turned back to the TV. The two sat in silence until Andrew got up to eat, throwing glances at Neil as he sat on the couch and stared at nothing in particular.

—–

Sunday morning rolled around too quickly, and Neil had four hours before Andrew had to leave. Four hours to tell him. Andrew sat on the edge of the bathtub as Neil emptied his already empty stomach into the toilet. Boiling pain sat at the base of his back and abdomen as Neil spat bile into the bowl.

“Drew,” Neil said, leaning back against the cold tiles of the wall, “I have to tell you something.” He waited for Andrew to gesture him to him to keep talking before saying, “I’m sick.”

“I can see that, Neil,” Andrew drawled.

Neil struggled for words and after a couple of false starts settled on: “I’m not going to get better. I have pancreatic cancer.”

Stifling silence blanketed the room and Neil swallowed around the sour taste on his tongue. “Andr-” Neil started, but was cut off when Andrew stood and walked out of the room. Neil heard shuffling in the entrance way and the front door opening and banging shut a few moments later. He dropped his head against the wall behind him and ran his fingers over his abdomen as his ears rang with the thud of a closing door.

A familiar ringtone broke through the static and Neil dragged himself off the floor to go grab his cell off of the bedroom side table.

“Hey, Matt,” he answered as he held the phone to his ear.

“Why did Andrew send a mass text telling us to all be at your apartment tomorrow night?” Dan demanded. “What is going on?”

Neil should have felt some degree of surprise that Andrew had dragged the other foxes into this, but Andrew was still an instigator at heart, even after all these years.

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” Neil could feel the sardonic smile twist his lips as he spoke.

Neil could feel Dan’s disapproval over the line. “If Andrew is reaching out to us it must be serious. I’m surprised he still has all our numbers.”

He didn’t, but his steel trap memory had kept them in his head. The only number he had saved to his phone was Neil’s, and Neil knew that was more symbolic than necessary.

“Will you all be able to make it tomorrow night? We can push it back if we need-”

Dan cut him off sharply, “Come hell or high water we’ll be there. All of us.”

Neil’s smile relaxed into something more natural. “Thanks, Dan. Say hi to Matt and the boys from me.”

When Neil hung up he had three texts and a missed call. He responded to Nicky and Allison with assurances that he would tell them what was going on when they were there before opening a message from Aaron. It was a screenshot of Andrew’s message, a simple ‘Be at Neil’s apartment tomorrow night at 7’ with the caption ‘I see you told him’. Neil didn’t bother responding, but didn’t delete the message either. The missed call was from Kevin, and must have come in while he was on the phone with Dan. He ignored that as well and put his phone on silent.

—–

Neil was dozing on the bed when he heard the front door unlocking. “Andrew?” he called out in confusion. Andrew should have been half way back to Atlanta by then, but nobody else had keys to his apartment.

Andrew walked into the bedroom and leaned against the doorframe. He had bruises blossoming on his cheek and chin, and his knuckles looked red and raw.

“Andrew,” Neil breathed. Freezing panic clawed over his limbs as he stood up and stumbled towards the other man. He lifted his hand so it was hovering a fraction away from Andrew’s cheek. Andrew nodded stiffly and Neil cupped Andrew’s face, turning it towards the light to get a better look at the damage. “What did you do?”

Neil didn’t expect an explanation, and he didn’t get one. “Come on,” he sighed, “Let’s wrap those knuckles up.”

The bathroom still smelled faintly of bile, and Neil wrinkled his nose at the acrid scent. Andrew didn’t even seem to notice as Neil dug through the cabinet for bandages and disinfectant. He gestured for Andrew to sit on the edge of the tub and Neil didn’t miss the way Andrew’s fist clenched, but for once he did what he was asked without a fight. Neil swallowed another sigh and started gently cleaning around the scrapes.

“You shouldn’t be doing this,” Andrew ground out after a few minutes.

“I’m not sure you could do this by yourself with your non-dominant hand,” Neil said, eyebrows furrowing.

“No, Junkie,” Andrew said as he threw Neil a glare, “You shouldn’t be taking care of me when you’re the one who’s-” It was unusual for Andrew not to have his words perfectly thought out before he voiced them, but his sentence came to an abrupt halt. His expression darkened and for a moment Neil didn’t recognise the man he was looking at. Andrew reached for Neil’s hand and dug his short nails into Neil’s wrist. “I hate you so much I can barely stand it.”

The painful pressure of Andrew’s fingers diluted the warring emotions sprinting through Neil’s mind and his eyes fluttered shut. “I’ll always take care of you.”

“No,” Andrew said, “you won’t.”

Neil’s eyes blinked open, and he barely caught himself from recoiling from what he saw in Andrew’s.

“Drew, come back to me. Stay with me, even if it’s just for now.” Neil’s words made the cold distance bleed from Andrew’s eyes, and he threw Neil’s hand to the side. Neil surrendered the bandages to Andrew and watched as he wrapped them around his hand with stiff movements. “Shouldn’t you be in Atlanta by now?”

Andrew looked up from the white gauze and the curve of his brow was almost enough to make Neil laugh.

“I’m glad you’re still here,” Neil said after a moment of silence.

“How are you feeling?” Andrew asked, looking as though every word burned his throat on the way up. Neil scoured his memory for any instance of Andrew enquiring after his emotions or physical sensations and found none. Warmth spread through his chest.

“Like somebody has injected hydrochloric acid into my lower back,” Neil answered honestly. Andrew’s stare was heavy and Neil guessed at his thoughts. “Aaron said I can be put on a course of chemotherapy, but he wasn’t very optimistic about the outcome.”

“Pancreatic cancer has a seven percent chance of survival over five years.”

Neil found Andrew’s hand where it rested on the side of the tub and gently ran the pads of his fingers over Andrew’s split knuckles. Andrew flipped his hand over and slotted their fingers together.

“I might not have that long,” Neil whispered. Panic as familiar as Andrew’s face beat through Neil’s pulse and he tightened his grip on Andrew’s hand. He would have to tell Andrew how he felt before the end, but the weight of those three words felt inappropriate for the situation.

“You’ve survived worse odds,” Andrew said.

“Yeah,” Neil said, threading his other fingers through Andrew’s pale hair. Neil pushed himself onto his knees and bumped his nose into Andrew’s where Andrew met him halfway. Andrew parted his lips and the kiss deepened for an instant before Andrew’s phone started buzzing in his pocket. Neil pulled away and rested his forehead against Andrew’s. “You should answer that, it’s probably Kevin demanding to know if I can still play Exy or if this ‘big announcement’ is me quitting the sport.”

Andrew dug the ringing phone from his pocket and flipped it open. “Kevin,” he said into the receiver and Neil rolled his eyes. Neil could vaguely hear Kevin ranting on the other side of the line, but Andrew only listened for a few moment before hanging up.

“Not in the mood to listen to his single mindedness?” Neil asked.

“Not in the mood to hear Kevin complain about you. Up,” Andrew said, motioning with his phone still in his hand at the door. “I hate calling the chinese place and you already know my order.”

Neil scoffed but pushed himself up from his haunches and accepted Andrew’s cell. Andrew followed him out of the bathroom as Neil dialled the number and waited for somebody to pick up. Neil was tempted to hang up without ordering for himself, but Andrew’s sharp gaze had him settling on beef chow mein.

That night Andrew pulled Neil’s back into his chest and wedged a leg between Neil’s with more force than necessary.

“Drew,” Neil said, waiting for Andrew to tighten his arms around Neil’s waist as confirmation that he was listening. “For once I have no plan for the future. There are no escape routes and stashes of cash that I can use to run away from cancer.” Panic seemed to ebb and flow in Neil’s bloodstream as he thought about the logistics of the situation, one minute seizing up in his chest and leaving him gasping, the next second allowing for nothing but numbness. “I have to tell the foxes, and my team, and the press, and the moriyamas. My privacy is going to be stripped away while the media and the mafia decide what to do about my future, and that means your privacy is going to be stripped away too.”

Andrew remained silent, but Neil continued despite his lack of response. “What we’ve had has always been just between the two of us, but it’s not going to be like that anymore, so maybe it’s best if-”

“Finish that sentence and I will shank you,” Andrew said.

Tension bled like wet ink from Neil’s frame as he released a breath he hadn’t even realised he’d been holding. “Yeah,” he said as he ghosted his fingertips over Andrew’s wrist.

Andrew bunched his fingers in the fabric over Neil’s heart. “We’ll figure this out together,” he murmured into Neil’s nape.

Neil twisted under the sheets until he was facing Andrew. “Yeah,” he repeated, brushing his fingertips over Andrew’s wet cheek.

—–


End file.
